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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264572">My Dearest Eliza</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekindworthreading/pseuds/thekindworthreading'>thekindworthreading</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hamilton - Miranda</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Love Letters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:13:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,349</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23264572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekindworthreading/pseuds/thekindworthreading</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of letters Hamilton sends to his Eliza</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexander Hamilton/Elizabeth "Eliza" Schuyler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Missing My Wife</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I plan on writing some more letters to post here. I have been writing for years now, but this is the first time I have ever posted something soooo...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My Dearest Eliza,<br/>
who would have known that being apart from You would take such a toll on my heart? It hasn´t even been a day yet, and still my heart aches for just a glimpse of Your smile – oh how I spend my hours pondering how a smile can be so beautiful, so intoxicating? -, how I wish to hear Your laugh, for it fills my heart with so much happiness, I can hardly bear it. That this smile – this love I see in Your face, every time You look at me – that this could really be directed at me, is still something I try to grasp. Every time I open my eyes, I fear that I´ll be awakening from a dream, even if I´m just blinking, for how could someone as beautiful, as lovely, as kind – and a thousand more words I could never find – as You, be directing this love at me? Surely, it must be a dream, though every time I awake and find it to still be true, I am breathless.<br/>
I am well aware, my dearest Eliza, that my simple writing hardly does You justice, but I hope You can forgive me.<br/>
I count the days – even the hours, minutes and seconds – until You will finally be mine again. It hurts, knowing that there is still so much time until I get to see You again – get to kiss and hold You again – but with every passing second my heart gets lighter with the knowledge that You are a second closer to me.<br/>
I am not above pleading for You to write me soon, for it may be the only thing that will keep me from going insane at the absence from You.<br/>
I love You.<br/>
And You can´t imagine how much it pains me to just write those words, and not be able to say them to You – to show them to You. Oh, my love, how Your eyes light up when I tell You that I love You. I could spend hours – months even – writing about the beauty of them in that moment – I could use the best and finest words for it – and still it could not compare to the reality of You. I get lost in them every time, just as I get lost in my words right now.<br/>
I should end this letter, though in truth I never want to stop writing – as long as I can´t talk – to You.<br/>
My love, send a letter soon, until then, know that my thoughts are always with You.<br/>
All my love,<br/>
Your dear Alexander</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Tolerance for Pain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My Dearest Eliza,<br/>
It´s almost oddly quiet. I mean it´s not, I can hear the chirping of a bird – loud and rhythmic – a second and a third joining in from time to time, but not as loud, and then the river beside me, its steady noise almost blending in with the quiet. Sometimes a horse rides by, far away. And I can hear myself breathing. But it´s still quiet. There are no people talking, no one around me for miles. And that just reminds me of the fact, that You are even farther away.<br/>
I miss you. I know I write that in every letter You receive, but it´s true. And with every passing day, my longing for You grows stronger.<br/>
It´s cold, but not cold enough that breathing hurts. It´s just that I feel the air in my lungs, sharp and cold. My fingers are hurting, and I wish I´d have taken gloves with me, but I gladly bear the pain if it means in a few days I´ll receive a letter from You, my love. The wind – I can hear it too or maybe I´m just imagining it – is soft, but still too cold to be comfortable, even with the blanket I´ve wrapped around me.<br/>
There is a thick layer of clouds covering the sky and I wish for the sun to break through – for its sunrays to softly caress me like the warm fingers of a lover´s touch – like Your touch. Do you know how often I lie awake at night, wishing for You to be by my side?<br/>
There is a bird flying above me, seeming like it´s frozen in the air, - oh how I wish I could fly, for I would fly home to You. The clouds are dark now – nothing like the almost blinding white of freshly fallen snow they were when I left the house. I think it will rain soon.<br/>
My fingers are hurting now from the cold and even though I relish the quiet – the peace, the calm – I will have to pack my things soon and make my way back home – although home is maybe the wrong word, for I only feel at home with You by my side.<br/>
Someone said that it will start to snow as the week progresses, but I hope it will get warmer soon, so I can enjoy the peace of nature and the sun again – write Your letters sitting in the grass, instead of behind a desk. The gentleness of the wind has turned rougher, so I will make my way home – again that word that doesn´t seem to fit. Now I´m sure that I can in fact hear it – rushing through the trees and ruffling my hair.<br/>
I hope I´ll make it home in time before it starts raining. I can´t wait to feel the warmth of fire on my skin, but the cold is a price worth paying for a moment of peace of the mind.<br/>
Just as I´m packing away my things the sun breaks through the clouds, as if to tempt me to stay. And I will, even if it´s just for a moment. Oh, how I missed the warmth I´m feeling. It can´t evict the cold completely, but it´s like a promise – a promise of summer, of what´s to come – soft, sweet, and brief. A summer when I will see You again.<br/>
For now, I must go. But just know that I love You. I promise my next letter will arrive soon, for I can´t seem to stop writing to You.<br/>
All my love,<br/>
Your Alexander</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. As Long As I´m Alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My dearest Eliza,<br/>days and days and days have passed since Your last letter arrived. I know that in a time like this – in a time of war – it is hardly unusual for a letter to take its time – or even to be lost altogether. Still, I can´t help but wonder if You are alright. I am sure You are. You have to be, for I can´t imagine how I should go on without You. I dread thinking about how it must be coming home and to not be greeted by Your loving and oh so kind smile, Your beautiful eyes. I feel myself trembling just trying to imagine it.<br/>But that can´t be, can it? That something has happened to You. I am sure if that were the case, I would have known by now. And I don´t mean that I would have received a letter. I am sure that I would know it – deep down in my very soul. There would be an ache, different from the one I am feeling every day we are apart – deep and all-consuming. My heart would be in shards. I would feel it. I would know. I am sure of it.<br/>But still, what if not? Wat if I would just keep on living, unaware that my love, my Eliza, - that You are gone?<br/>My love, do you know what that would do to me? I could not live with myself. I can not live without You. You, my Eliza, are the best thing in my life. You are the reason to keep living. <br/>So one again, I plead with you, write soon, for I don´t know how much my heart can handle.<br/>I love You.<br/>Your dear Alexander</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>For more Hamilton content you can come talk to me on tumblr: whatdidimissjm.tumblr.com :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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